Page 37 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

“I know you are.” He smiles. “Now let’s go feed you.”

Chapter Thirteen

Olivia

“I would’ve been fine with fast food,” I say, perusing the menu at The Merry Cow. Eating at a full-blown steakhouse is a much bigger deal than I expected when Hudson suggested getting dinner.

“There’s no McDonald’s in Abieville,” he says.

“Pizza, then.”

“Stop arguing with your exacting boss,” he says. “We’re celebrating your fourth day of work. And for that we need the best burger in town. Complete with sesame seed buns.”

My boss. Right.

Nothing has shifted with our roles. Hudson may be asking my opinions and seeking my advice, but our relationship is still strictly professional. And it needs to stay that way.

When our meals arrive, I inhale the scent of greasy goodness, and sigh. “I admit it. This is way better than fast food. Is it uncool for me to drool in front of you?”

“I don’t mind a little drool, if you’re okay with me stealing some french fries. My steak comes with a loaded baked potato, but those look amazing.”

“Help yourself.” I sprinkle salt on the basket of fries and shove it closer to him. “It’s not stealing if we’re sharing.”

He holds my gaze for a beat, then breaks contact, squirting ketchup on the sliver of his plate that isn’t covered with steak and potato. Then he drags a couple of fries through the blob. Meanwhile, I take a big bite of my burger and glance around the restaurant.

The windows are shuttered, so the space is dimly lit even though the sun hasn’t completely set yet. The booths are leather and the tables and chairs are made of some kind of dark wood. The wall decor leans heavily on fishing gear, signs with hunting puns, and taxidermy.

“You know, nothing’s changed since the last time I was here,” I say.

“Yeah.” Hudson saws off a large wedge of steak. “You were with that guy, right? The groomsman from your cousin’s wedding.” He shoves the steak in his mouth. “Drake Hawkins.”

“Whoa.” I set down my burger. “You remember that?”

Hudson nods, chews, gulps. “You two dated for a long time. At least that’s what I heard through the grapevine.”

“Hawk? No!” I choke a little, and take a sip of water to clear my throat.

“Hawk. Right.” Hudson helps himself to another fry. Dips it in ketchup. “Quite the nickname. Quite the lucky guy.”

“No.” I shake my head. “We were never an actual couple. We just hung out when we happened to be in the same town.” I dab my mouth with a napkin. “Hawk could be a little over-the-top, but he made me laugh. And I guess he liked that we looked good together. But he never pushed for anything … more than friendship. Ever. It was kind of refreshing, to be honest.”

Meanwhile, most guys—starting way back in middle school—had very different goals when it came to me. But I don’t talk about that with anyone.

Especially my boss.

“Then I guess I heard wrong,” Hudson says.

“You did.”

His jaw ticks. “That night at The Launch Pad?” He pauses for a moment. “I actually thought Hawk was your boyfriend.”

“Wait. What?” I gape at him, and my neck flames up. “You thought I was the kind of woman who’d kiss another guy when she was in a relationship?”

Hudson grimaces. “I didn’t really know you then. And it was a dare.”

“Wow.” My cheeks heat up to match my neck. I’m probably one big blotch now. “So you thought my sisters would want me to kiss someone behind my boyfriend’s back?”

His grimace shifts to a cringe. “I didn’t know them either.”

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